


My Life

by Emily_Anne23



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: F/M, Forced Prostitution, I love mags and finnick, M/M, Rape, Rape Aftermath, Underage Drinking, Underage Sex, poor Finnick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-18
Updated: 2019-09-18
Packaged: 2020-10-21 01:04:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20684957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emily_Anne23/pseuds/Emily_Anne23
Summary: He needed help.He had won the games, hadn’t he? He had done what he was told, he won, he fought, he killed-dirty dirty dirty-so why was this man hurting him, drowning him, killing him.He used to pray that someone would put him out of his misery, because living this life was worse than the darkness of death. Oh how death seemed like a blissful summer day with his toes in the sand while the waves cascaded over them. But his end had never come. His prayer’s were never answered.Help me.a story about Finnicks past.





	My Life

**Author's Note:**

> Please do not read if you are triggered by the topic. I don't know if this is going to be more than a one shot, so let me know what you think.

It was cold, that’s all he could think. Hands, that’s all he could feel. Sex, that’s all he could smell. He was 15 and his innocence was being stripped away. Maybe if he had listened to Mags he wouldn’t be tied to a bed of a stranger. 

He needed help. 

He had won the games, hadn’t he? He had done what he was told, he won, he fought, he killed-dirty dirty dirty-so why was this man hurting him, drowning him, killing him. 

He used to pray that someone would put him out of his misery, because living this life was worse than the darkness of death. Oh how death seemed like a blissful summer day with his toes in the sand while the waves cascaded over them. But his end had never come. His prayer’s were never answered.

Help me.

The first time it happened, he was two weeks short of his fifteenth birthday. It was on his victory tour, he remembered Mags telling him to stay with her, to not drink what was given to him. But when she was not looking he took a sip of a drink that a nice lady had given him. She was older than his own mom so surely it would be fine to drink what she had given him. Oh how naive he was to think she cared. The drink was bright purple. He would never forget. He would also never forget the way she felt or what she said. 

“Oh honey when I saw you in that get up I knew I couldn’t help myself.” hands, hands, hands.  
“I want to see what your hiding under all of that.” tears, tears, tears.   
“Don’t cry. I’m sure you’ve done this before.” but he’d hadn’t. And that was his first, with a woman old enough to be his mom, and whom he didn’t even know the name of.   
“Stop crying. You were practically asking for this, looking all pretty on camera. It’s your fault.” 

It was his fault. Mags said to act innocent but he didn’t listen. He should have listened. But how was he supposed to know that adults were going to find his fourteen year old body attractive not only that but how was he supposed to know that they wanted to have sex with him. 

Of course he knew what sex was, but it was different than what the capital thought. His mom told him that it was what two people who were truly in love did. What he did was not out of love. 

He once overheard something Mags was saying to one of his stylist. At the time he didn’t understand. 

“He’s a child! Hardly fourteen!” 

“But look at him Mags, you have to see the appeal.” 

“No, I see a child. I see a child with a big heart and kind intentions. Not some toy for you capital people to push around and do whatever you please with!” 

He understands now. He wish he didn’t but he did. 

After the first time President Snow wanted to meet with him. He was afraid. Snow told him that if he failed to pleasure the people he was sold to, snow would kill the people close to him. So he agreed shakily. 

And that’s where he found himself tonight, tied to the bed of one of his most famous clients. He tried not to cry, but it hurt every time. It was all the same. He would get to his mansion and, as always, he was lead to the master bedroom. The room was dark and always so cold. He was told to strip, so he did with hands shaking. The man told him to leave his underwear on. Then he laid on the bed. The man tied his arms to the headboard and his legs to the footboard, so that he was unable to move. But the worst part was that he would cover his eyes so he couldn’t see where the man was coming from. But he had been with this guy long enough to know that he always started with his mouth. He kissed him all the way down until his lips touched the hem of his boxers, he could feel the mans mouth twitch up in a smirk. That’s when he started to slowly cut through his boxers. 

He tried to calm down but it was futile. Once the boxers were disregarded the man slowly started to touch him. 

It felt like fire. It was as if the fire from hell had come through the cracks in the wall and slowly it began to whisk itself around his now small form, choking him. 

Slowly he felt the fire begin to burn in his lower stomach and that’s when the tears trickled down his face. He wasn’t supposed to cry but he did everytime with this man.The man seemed to enjoy it. He could feel himself getting harder, despite how much he hated this.The man noticed this so he went faster and faster until the boy released what was pent up inside. His breathing picked up when the man started undressing himself, he might not have been able to see but he heard the mans zipper followed by the mans pants dropping. He was terrified.

This was the part that he liked to pretend that he was on a boat with his family away from everything that could ever hurt him or his family, but he was always brought back when the man pushed inside of him. 

He screamed and the man laughed. 

It was brutal. The man moned and whispered dirty things in his ear. But like before it was his fault because he made himself a target. So he cried and got through it like he always did. 

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX  
Mags was waiting for him when he got back. Every time he had a session with this man Mags was there to make it better. She would cradle him and rock him as he sobbed his heart out. He didn’t deserve her, he was dirty, tainted. 

He was broken goods. 

But she didn’t care. She brushed her soft hand through his hair and said nice things.

“You are good.” “I’m sorry this happened to you.” “It’s not fair you are a child.”

But he was used to it. He learned to not show his internal problems. 

Because this was the life of Finnick Odair.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope that this puts some prospective on Finnicks awful life. Should this be more that a one shot?


End file.
